


Bedfordshire

by FaerieChild



Category: Lord John Series - Diana Gabaldon, Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:26:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26023390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaerieChild/pseuds/FaerieChild
Summary: A missing scene from The Scottish Prisoner inspired by John’s line about missing Jamie picking him up. With John invalided to bed rest, Jamie’s assistance is required to change the sheets.
Relationships: Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser, Jamie Fraser/Lord John Grey
Comments: 16
Kudos: 87





	Bedfordshire

**Author's Note:**

> In the UK, particularly in England, Bedfordshire is an amusing/fun word way to refer to your bed or bedroom which is a word play on the fact that there is a county of the same name. E.g. ‘I’m off to bedfordshire’. I wrote this just for fun and wanted to share.

It was the half day of Lord Melton’s valet, the strongest male servant in the house. Minerva’s husband was at his club. The footmen were out on errands and the butler was doing his best but it was no good.

Minerva waved off the butler. There was no point someone else getting injured.

“I’m not a complete invalid,” John Grey objected.

“You are a complete invalid,” His sister in law disagreed and then turned to the butler. “Call Fraser up.”

“Not Jamie,” John insisted. Were there not enough indignities in nearly dying?

“The linens need changed and you’re not well enough to be rolled without opening your wound up again,” Minerva insisted. That much John knew was true. It hurt to breath never mind being heaved around like a sack of coal to allow the bedlinens to be changed in the usual manner - rolled onto one side of the bed at a time. John wanted to protest more, but his exhaustion overcame him as his sister-in-law took charge.

The next time John woke up it was to the sensation of a strong arm sliding under his shoulder. He tried to fight the man off in his delirium until a familiar Scottish voice hushed him. “Its alright, John.”

Jamie.

John felt a long slow sigh escape him and selfishly let his head come to rest against Jamie’s strong shoulder. Lethargy weighted him down. But Jamie smelled of leather, and books and the earthy masculine scent of his body. Most astonishing of all there was none of the alert tenseness, the fight or flight Jamie had once exhibited in his presence. There was only an aura of protectiveness and gentle strength that pierced right through John’s heart and made it physically ache.

John took in a deep breath sighed. Wishing he had the energy to do literally anything at all. Breathe. Move. Exist. He rolled his head, finding a warm patch of muscle to snuggle his cheek against. Jamie tensed for a moment, and then it was gone.

Consciousness was a struggle, but John fought his own tiredness to stay awake and savour these few short moments as the maids fussed in the background, stripping the bed of the dirty old linens and covering it with new ones. John could hear the brisk whiskering of their well-practiced hands smoothing the fabric down across the bed.

John spent every ounce of energy he could spare committing this moment to memory. The feeling of being held in Jamie’s arms, cradled by strong biceps and covered in the soft, warm cotton of his shirt. Jamie’s very presence was heady in his current state. The enticing masculinity, the commanding presence of his person, the highland warrior simmering underneath. And yet alongside the fearsome rebel commander, the tenderest of whispers hushing him.

Not Jamie, his mind had pleaded with Minerva, because John knew his will was not strong enough to resist right now. Relaxing into Jamie’s embrace, John felt Jamie tense and then relax as John sighed gently and pressed his cheek once more into the warmth of Jamie’s body and wished that Jamie might hold him this way forever. Safe in the embrace of the man he loved.

John could sense every nerve and sinew in Jamie’s body holding fast. The strong arms cradling John gripped him tighter and then at Minerva’s word Jamie stepped forward to the bed and laid him down. John could not help the slight grunt of pain that escaped him, followed up by the weight of a palm on his shoulder that was most decidedly not Minerva.

John opened his eyes and looked up to find Jamie staring down at him with concern in his eyes.

“Sorry, John.”

“I’m quite alright, I assure you,” John insisted.

“Aye, I bet ye are,” Jamie only snorted and gave him a look that indicated Jamie knew exactly where John’s head was at. Before their trip to Ireland John might have been worried about how Jamie would react. Now things between them had settled somewhat Jamie appeared to have graduated to gently ribbing him about his feelings. John let his head fall back on the pillow. Well that was just all he needed wasn’t it? He scoffed and looked back at Jamie, astonished at this teasing.

“Fight me,” Jamie shrugged it off with a mild-mannered look of amusement.

It was not that John expected Jamie to be rough in his manner, but the gentleness of the Jamie’s attentions surprised even John and once he had made eye contact he found he couldn’t look away as Jamie and Minerva took over fixing the last of the fresh bedlinens and pulling the sheets up over John’s waist.

“Don’t you dare encourage him!” Minerva scolded Jamie. “Thank you, that will do nicely,” Minerva fussed, chasing the maids out of the room.

John stared up at Jamie, his mental and physical state too weak to hide everything churning in his soul.

Jamie Fraser stared right back.


End file.
